What's Behind The Veil
by Horsesdontlie
Summary: What if this world was not our last? What if we awoke in a different place a different time? You would be yourself but slightly different. Our beloved Opera Ghost finds out that when you die there is no after life...at least not yet.
1. A Last goodbye

Greetings all fellow readers! If you know me by previous story (Letting Go but Holding on) Hello again. If you have not read that story…Hello anyways. As of now I do not have any strong plot line, I have the main concept down so I can not say much about pairings and other things like that. For this story I need a beta reader! I am horrible with my grammar and spelling and need a bit of help. So if you can help e-mail me please.

**Summary**: What if this world was not our last? What if we awoke in a different place a different time? You would be yourself but slightly different. Our beloved Opera Ghost finds out that after this life it's not strait to Heaven…..if there even is a heaven. Familiar faces begin to drop into this strange world; Armand Moncharmin, Firmen Richard, La Carlotta, Madam Giry, Raoul De Changy, and of course Christine Daae or now Christine De Changy.

Leroux based with a bit of Kay's book. I doubt that I will do anything from the movie but a few things might slip in. If I get out of character I want someone to slap me and tell me what I am doing wrong. This is PG but some scenes might become PG-13 because of violence. For those who wish to know, I do not cuss in any of my stories and I have no under age appropriate scenes (you know what I mean)

**Disclaimer**: It seems like everyone has to go over this, No I do not own any great and unforgettable Phantom of the Opera characters or places or anything like that. It all belongs to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Susan Kay and I don't really know who else.

The sad thing is…is that really I do not own anything in this story other than Erik's personality. I belong to a role-playing web site called Defiance. I want to give credit to the wonder website that this story is fully based off of. The characters within the story are made up by someone else…not me. I have gotten permission from everyone in this story to use their character, and from the sites creator to use the sites ideas. If you would like to check it out it is set as my homepage

first few lines are from the wonderful and Original book by Gaston Leroux, I thought it might fit in a bit for what I am writing. The first part follows along the line of the book -how could I change it around-

**  
-Prologue-**

"Then she kissed me for the first time, here, on the forehead -don't look, daroga- on my forehead. And they left together….. Christine wasn't crying anymore, only I was crying….Ah daroga, daroga if she keeps her promise, she'll come back soon!" spoke a man choked with great emotion. He was slumped over in a armchair inside of a small apartment. He was in evening dress but the clothing looked too large for the man's skinny frame. In his hands was a mask.

Across the room there was another man dressed in Persian clothing and an Astrakhan hat, had his back to the man who rested in his armchair. He ran a hand through his hair and listened the man who had just tried to kill him…maybe three nights ago? It was hard to tell he was still trying to gather his thoughts.

Behind him he heard the groan of the man, the monster he knew. Daring to finally turn around he found, to his luck, that once again the cloaked man had returned the mask to his face. The mask covered most of the mans face, only his mouth and eyes showed through. That's at least what should have been seen but his mouth was lipless and the small area of skin that you saw had a deathly pallor to it and for the eyes all you saw was black holes.  
It was something different for the Persian to see this man, who had caused many to tremble and/or fall because of him. He had literally ruled over the Paris Opera house! Now this man that was before him was a broken spirit 'I'm dieing of love' as he put it. The Persian did not think he was lying. The man, Erik as he knew him, had never stumbled never slouched before now. Now he looked like he was, a man on deaths row.

After that Erik said little as he departed. He thanked the Persian for his kindness towards himself and gave him a few instructions for what was to happen after he had died. A notice in the newspaper L'Epoque was all that he asked for. The Persian agreed to do what was asked of him.

The Persian helped Erik to the door and he called his servant, Darius, to help him the rest of the way to the cab that stood silently waiting. Erik put a arm on Darius's shoulder as he walked to the cab. It was something to see a man towering over his supporter, it didn't matter what he was doing Erik always had a large presence.  
Slowly Erik climbed into the cab and sat down inside. Darius walked back up the porch and stopped besides his master. The cab driver came down to the close the door, he placed his hand on the door and hesitated. Inside Erik's raspy voice spoke out "To….the Opera" The cab driver nodded and close the door lightly.

Only the Persian was standing on the porch now, Darius had gone back inside to make some tea. He watched as the cob driver flicked the reins and the horse pulled foreword. The carriage creaked as the rested parts where again put into use. He only turned to go back inside when the carriage went around the corner and the clopping of the horses hooves began to die away.

No one was out so the ride was fairly quick to the Paris Opera house. Inside Erik stared strait foreword into nothingness. He didn't glance out to watch Paris…..for the last time. Everyone else was either busy or could really careless what was in the lonely carriage as it passed by, An average passenger right?

The cab driver pulled back on the reins to bring the horse and carriage to a stop in front of the towering Opera House. He slowly climbed down and walked around the horse giving it a few fond pats. He spoke gruffly to the horse who was his only companion on these nights "Last one for tonight girl, how about a nice warm mash when we get back"  
The cab driver slowly made his way to the door and standing to the side he opened it up for his customer to exit the carriage. When the carriage did not move or no person came to exit he looked inside perplexed. In side all he found nothing, the seats were empty.  
Confused he put his head inside and again looked around, but all he found was a fair amount of change in the corner of the carriage. Still confused he collected the money and went home.

From the alley way the carriage driver missed two glowing eyes that watched him pass. Slowly Erik turned away and walked down the alley, his hand against the wall of the Opera House. Soon he came to a dead end a large concrete wall blocked his path. With an open palm he carefully felt the wall of the Opera House until he reached a brick that stuck out some.

Most would have passed it because quiet a few bricks stick out in different places. Erik pressed the brick with an open palm, it slid backwards easily. Dragging himself backward he waits but it did not take long. A Section of the wall -A tall narrow section- moved into the building. It moved back until a passage was reviled. Erik turned and glanced at the area around himself before moving in. He thought it would be the last time he would see the light of day, not that he really cared he had been given all the happiness he would ever need and death seemed ever so welcoming.

**-Really short but it is only a prologue. Ok like it? Hate it? Please let me know, Opinions on the plot…..just give me something!- **


	2. Seeing Beyond the Veil

Yes I have not updated this story in like…months. Well here it is…I hope you guys like this chapter…It will be unexpected I hope.

Erik: What are you going to do to me?

Authoress: You'll See

:Seeing Beyond the Veil:\

Erik groaned as a cool autumn breeze crawled up his back. Afraid to open his eyes Erik kept them clamped shut. Was he dead? Of course he was, he would not mistaken his death timing. Plus the memories that had flashed by as if a roll of film just waiting to play. The only thing that had not fit was the howling that had echoed in his head. He couldn't change any of this, he was dead. Well so this was it, he would either open his eyes to face either the Heavens….or the pits of the underworld. With a intake of breath he opened his eyes, first everything was fuzzy, then things began to sharpen.

He had to admit that his thoughts for the afterlife where far off from where he was know. He was surrounded by many large pines. The sky was unseeable due to the fact that branches covered the sky. Ok this was utterly strange, there was not a person in sight (not that he minded), the whole area smelled funky, and some reason his limbs seemed to be failing him.

Sense he was sort of paralyzed, he closed his eyes again and reflected on his life. Everything seemed a bit fuzzy yet he saw blips of it. When it came towards the end, Erik saw Christine and Raoul arm and arm start walking away leaving him on the floor. The memory was still fresh and Erik managed to curl his body into a ball on the forest floor. The sound that Erik was expecting to come out of his mouth was a sob, yet to his surprise it came out as a long sad whine. It was like that of a dogs. Eye's shoot back open, and Erik tries to move into a sitting position. Only to find that his arms would not go backwards in that manner. In shock Erik looks down at himself , eyes grew wide and he lets out another yelp. Instead of black cloth covering his body it was black fur. Erik turned to look down at his hands…only to find that they where not hands at all but rather large paws.

He had been reborn or whatever back into a wolf? Ok what had he done to deserve this? This was one strange cursed punishment. Erik rolls onto his belly with his two front paws in front of him. Very shakily Erik uses what little strength he had at the moment and raised his wolf body into a sitting position. Well if he had a new body….maybe somehow he could have left behind….With hope Erik looked at himself again.

When he started to see his body, his mind started to rebel. No, no, no, no. He looked extremely malnourished. Ribs protruded from his sides and his hip bone also poked out. His skin was papery while his coat was rather smooth and thin showing every curve of his body. Beginning to shake horribly Erik tried to raise a paw but only to loose his balance. Instead he rubbed the side of his face along his foot, the skin on his face was uneven and seemed bare compared to the rest of his fur covered body. Rage swept within him. So he was placed in some strange place in a deformed wolf's body. Great, who was laughing this time? Some great person was pointing and laughing, he was a joke. Once again he felt like he was in a cage and someone was prodding him with a stick. With another whimper his legs gave out and he fell to the ground in a heap of black fur.

Some time later Erik pressed down with a back leg a bit to move him onto his side a twig broke under his weight. The noise had been so loud that he had turned and had raised a paw up in the air as if to grasp the throat whatever had made the noise. He ended up looking at his own leg and lowering his paw….now if something was coming after him he would not be able to strangle anybody anymore….He blinked for a moment before dazing off again into his own thoughts.

He had shut himself out from the rest of the world, he heard nothing and saw nothing. His eyes stayed open and were glossy. It was only when the small voice spoke that Erik snapped back to this world…or what ever it was. "Hello mister 'm Bjorn. It means bear in another language."

The noise of the voice made Erik push up from the ground with both legs, he was obviously startled. He thought he had been alone. He found himself on four legs, a taking a step backwards which ended up tripping over his own feet and he sat down on his rump. From the time he jumped up he had snarled and teeth had slashed at open air. His head spun around searching for some human to be talking. Yet the sight of a round brown fluff ball in front of him startled him. He sat there staring his eyes wide staring at the pup. Wait did it just talk? Slowly Erik's lip fell covering his teeth. He could talk….what a strange place this was. Opening his own mouth he spoke, his voice musically sailed on the air, yet he could not hide the surprise "You can talk?…….I can talk?"

He found his own voice had not changed a bit, it was the same as it had been when he had walked on two legs…For a moment a bizarre though ran through his mind, could he still sing then? If it had been an adult he would have been surprised that the wolf was not scared of his face and the rest of his body. Yet young children...or wolves, always seemed to be able to look past it. If you know Erik at all you would have to give the pup a pat on the back. He was the first person to surprise Erik so that he was acting rather irrational.

He felt stranded and somehow week, he had never truly been clumsy but her he was falling over his own feet. Wait no he had never been clumsy except maybe that few weeks or so of learning how to walk. Now he was sitting unlike a wolf, hi back legs where slightly apart they had been that way when he had stumbled. For a moment he didn't bother to move them at all. He was trying to swallow everything that was happening. Lets just say that it was having a hard time going down his throat. He had always been one to understand one to know all. The fact that he was worse off than this young one here was quiet possible.

Yet Erik was about to take the thought back when he looked at the youngster again. The Pup's where wide with horror from when Erik had snapped at him. The pup…Bjorn finally found his courage and leapt into the bushes and hid shaking like a leaf. Then the shaking bush spoke quietly "Don't hurt me"

Great he had frightened the poor thing half to death. He had always had a soft spot with kids, they where innocent and often didn't have the true taste of reality and that gave them such a accepting nature to everything around them. Why adults on the other hand didn't want to look past their own noses….Wait…It was then that Erik realized that he actually had a nose! No more black hole in the middle of his face. He could have almost looked happy but when he thought about the small hidden pup in front of him he sighed. He Slightly stood up slowly straitening out his back legs until he stood up strait. He looked down, he still was very tall, yet like he had before he had no muscle tone. Once he was able to get his hind legs tucked under him he again sat down now in a more relaxed but serious manner.

His now very keen ears pick up the sound of the pup's voice again. Wow did all wolves speak French? Or did it happen to be all one language? Not wanting to think about it he returned to the fact why the pup had talked. Don't hurt him? He realized that maybe the horror of how he looked and when he snapped at the pup might have been too much for the young one. As a natural reaction he turned his exposed face away from the hidden pup and said quietly, his voice laced with sorrow "No I am not going to hurt you….you just startled me."

He then realized how unlike himself he was being. If this was not the only wolf out there, there was bound to be more. He would have to regain his composure before he ran into anyone else. Yet even as he thought this his mind wandered again with his questions that his brain searched for. When you died did everyone come here? Could you die again? He slowly shook his head and closing his mouth he straitened his back and raised his head, he slowly turned towards the pup….as if afraid for the pups reaction. Yet he opened his mouth and his voice spoke again; his tone once again was musically tinged. "Now child, What did you say your name was?"

Ok he was asking for a name…could he even give one back if asked for it? He had not really had a name in his past life he had been known as; Opera Ghost, Phantom of the Opera, Devil's child……angel. Yes if you could believe it someone did call him angel. He had once played the role as a angel of music. Yet he had destroyed it. He had destroyed everything that could have been. Yet he asked himself What is my name? Yet somewhere inside himself came a soft reply Erik… No not that name…though it seemed to fit even more than it ever had. He never really considered himself as Erik, well not at least until he took Christine with him an she found out that he was no angel. After a while she had asked for a name and he had told her Erik…

The pup slowly emerged from being under the bush. Hmm what a place to hide in a Bush. He himself was too big to ever do that. Even when he had been little he had been too big cause he had been a human child. He never had any bush to hide under anyways, he was either in the house….or in the house. He never hid…then again it matters what you would describe as hiding. He had gotten himself an act of disappearing when ever his mother would come to punish him. He seem to almost always slip from her hands once he had gotten his talents.

Even though his only crowd was the youngster in front of him Erik felt like he was exposed to the world. There was nothing to cover his face, nothing! Have you ever heard of a wolf with a mask? Highly unlikely and most unnatural. He turned his face away slightly.

Yet the small one spoke gathering Erik's attention. "M'- M' name's Bjorn. Means" he sniffled "Means bear in another language"

Bjorn…unique, it sounded familiar. It was a some type of large animal, Knowing many languages could come in handy. Yet if they where speaking French…maybe they weren't…that means that saying Bjorn would not be said and all Erik should hear is bear. His barrel widened as he grew more flustered with his lack of knowledge. He slowly let out the breath through gritted teeth. He then decided that perhaps he should reply to the pup and not sit her wallowing in his own thoughts.

"Well Monsieur Bjorn, I seem to have……………..….lost my sense of direction. Do you happen to have any knowledge of were this place is?" Erik said trying to remain formal.

He had a hard time admitting that he was misplaced, it was truly a horrible feeling. Maybe he could get some answers and find out the rest for himself. Once again he pushed up with his back legs and found that he could push himself up much more easily this time. He arose swiftly to his feet…wait no paws, legs no longer where spread apart to help him balance but where tucked as if he was walking on a strait line underneath himself. Slowly he tried to smirk but found that lip muscles would not do it. He settled down with a triumphant look in his eyes, his tail hang loosely behind him as if it was not part of him. Yes he had regained more of his composure he was once again nimble and held the look of demanded superiority. He turns himself slightly so he can watch the pup, yes he now could stand…..but could he walk?

Now what muscles did a wolf had that humans didn't? It sounded quiet pathetic to learn how to walk again, yet it had to be done. Unless he wanted to lay there and die…now what would that bring? Erik much more preferred the idea of being a predator and not being something like a snail. Ever heard of a deformed snail, now that would be a sight to see

What about his old talents? Could he still perhaps be a ventriloquist? Or has his talent been stripped from him like his normal body? Once again the thought of Christine came into his mind. Death was supposed to get rid of her, for him to finally escape the web she had woven around him so unconsciously. She had been so good to him, he had nothing to offer her, only his own self, a dog ready to die for her.

Once again thoughts were interrupted by the noise of something stirring, first he thought it was the youngster again but the sound seemed a bit distant. There was someone else here, his lip lifts and white teeth show as he turns his head slowly to see another wolf. This wolf was Grey and brown, and this one was an adult. No more deep thinking until he could get alone, far away from others. It would be the end of him if he did not concentrate. Now there was two here, he was still uncovered.

"The place here is Crete, though this very part of it I have grown to call, 'Old Hallow Woods', whether that be the real name or not. You all are the first I have come across, other than my reflection." The new wolf said

So yes it must be that all wolves could talk here. That was one thing he was finally beginning to understand. Grabbing hold of this slight accomplishment he held onto it like it was a lifesaver and he was in a raging sea. Erik was tempted to sit down his legs were beginning to ache from standing this much but he stayed up, if he sat down he might not be able to get back up, and if this wolf decided to do anything funny he would be on his feet. Not that this wolf would do anything but Erik was so unsure about everything at the moment he decided to not be sorry.

Bjorn replied soon after, he seemed less surprised about this wolf "Well, Mr... Wolfie-Wolf, how come you knows so much 'bout this place, Crete, y'say? An', y' say y' never run 'cross anyone else? So, who tol' you i' was Crete?"

He watched as Bjorn confronted the older wolf, what he said was quiet true, how could that wolf know. Then again how did it ring a bell in his head? What ever the reason the pup's comment made Erik's lip rise into a snarl while attempting to smirk.

The new wolf seemed entertained too. He smiled and replied "Well, Bjorn, the name came to me in a dream. It sounded awfully familiar. My name is Roland, too."

The reply soon came, in a dream. Hmm what an interesting way, so he had not escaped dreams either. Bitter hatred crawled through him like an infection. This place might as well be Hell. The thought that maybe he could have gone without dreams, not that he fell asleep often but when he did he only dreamt of memories or something in the future going horribly wrong. It always ended up with him waking up in despair.

His name went in one ear and almost out the other, yet thinking better of erasing the name he keeps the name in mind. What was it with these creatures anyways? The first two he comes across threw their names out for the world to hear. So these two were Bjorn and Roland. They had something the same why he was different. He, if he still had hands, could have hit himself. Why was he being so blunt at the moment? He was not one to be that way, of course he was different, he might as well be another species. He was so alien compared to these two, then again it was nothing new he had always been a world apart from everyone else.

Slightly disgusted with himself Erik moves each muscle to get accustomed to them. Slowly he felt himself gaining control of himself, if he wished he could run without much effort, he could walk without tripping, he could leap….he could kill. He was not helpless no not at all, slowly a content yet triumphant look settle over him.

He soon noticed the youngster backing towards him. Erik knew he was trying to get close to him, he felt tempted to move away in annoyance but he stayed with a patients he only had for young ones. Then Bjorn whispered to Erik "Well, Mr. Wolfie-Wolf, think we should a-sept 'im? Seein' as, y'know…"

He sat quiet calmly and slowly his head turned towards the other wolf, unlike Bjorn he did not look the wolf up and down, he merely looked at him strait in the eye. Why? No reason what so ever, his answer would always be the same. Eyes still locked he answered simply "No"

With the sense of not belonging he rose up and with it the need of alone time. Unhurriedly he stands with grace and comes to his feet. Blank staring eyes pull away from Roland and turn to the youngster. Tones speak quietly "But I think you should" Once again his neck bends eyes narrow distrustfully at Roland before turning away. His lip twitches but he manages to keep his tone normal. "Take care of the youngster" Without waiting for a reply Erik turns and walks away. Maybe walking around wouldn't be as hard as he thought. Slowly he moves into a dark, shadowed area where the trees block out all light. Once again the familiar darkness surrounds him and he disappears into the darkness. 


End file.
